


To Aid and Abet

by Javanne



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M, So it ain't canon, pure indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 12:58:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18250319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Javanne/pseuds/Javanne
Summary: In which Alan helps Eric escape. In which Grell is herself and even more so. In which Spears makes the best of a difficult situation. Complete unabashed crack.





	To Aid and Abet

"Alan, no—I can't leave you behind!"

"Oh yes you can, because it's our only hope. I can't keep up with you, but I can misdirect the search. Here's money and food. Go as far as you possibly can, then hole up. Without your glasses, Spears can't track you. Your real problem is the demon. Try holy ground - maybe a cathedral until you've healed. If I live long enough, I will join you when I can. Give me those souls, all of them...Oh, that is—very strange. Go on, Eric, go! You've done all you can to save me. Let me do the same for you."

* * *

William T. Spears' temper was cooling. Not that he regretted condemning Eric Slingby for his transgressions; not at all, and he had no choice but to do so; but just possibly he should not have done it in front of Slingby's shocked and shaky partner. Humphries was a little too smart for Spears' good. Worse, Spears had failed to immediately confine Humphries in case his loyalties shifted. 

Humphries had left, but not to join in the hue and cry. The little slyboots had gone home, gathered all his available cash, packed a lunch, put it all into a briefcase, delivered it to his partner and sped him on his way. It was known that some partners could sense each other's direction. Of course this pair just had to be a prime example of the skill. Honestly.

Humphries intercepted the pursuing Reapers, sending them off on wild-goose chases in every possible wrong direction. He also delayed Grell until the Phantomhive demon arrived. Grell ran off with the demon. Just by being Grell, she would obstruct that pursuit as much as possible. Humphries had then collapsed in exhaustion. Slingby was gone, quite possibly no longer in Britain.

Spears was left with Alan Humphries. Who had returned all of Slingby's stolen souls.

And who had just informed him that if he wanted to do an execution, he'd better hurry up because the Thorns were beating him to it.

And what could he do? Interrogation would kill Humphries before it could break him. He was too frail for any of the truth-finding methods that Scientific were so eager to try. Spears had no bribe that might tempt a dying man. After the extraction of the souls, Humphries lacked the strength to raise a hand from his Infirmary cot—even the hand which was not manacled to the bedframe. In spite of which, he was able to eye Spears with resignation and amusement. Spears was beginning to suspect that Humphries had no pertinent information to give, but was willing to invent some if it would hamper the search for Slingby. Spears noticed that Humphries' silver bolo clasp was missing. And his watch. He'd probably given them to Slingby to be pawned.

It didn't help that his Reapers admired Humphries' dedication to his partner. Their search for Slingby was showing signs of being conducted in such likely locations as pubs and theaters. There was also a certain amount of sympathy for Slingby. The Higher Ups had abandoned him and his partner, refusing to look for a cure. Now other Reapers were wondering what they would have done in the same situation. Pushing them to the point of rebellion would forever ruin Spears' managerial relationship with them.

Spears was beginning to have some disloyal thoughts about the Infirmary. Humphries had been propped up to ease his breathing, but no other aid had been offered. Spears had helped Humphries to a drink of water during the soul retrieval. The nurses and orderlies were nowhere to be found. The guard that Medical had assigned—to keep him from doing what, exactly, as weak as he was?—had been the one to hunt up a thin scratchy blanket. The doctor had shrugged and vanished; the patient was moribund. He would die now or he would die later. 

Humphries was asleep or perhaps unconscious. He seemed to be somewhat less haggard. Spears needed to think. He returned to the office, brewed some tea, spread some terror among the idlers gossiping in the break room and retired to his desk to organize his thoughts. 

He must avoid the interference of the Higher Ups. It would be disastrous. He could survive being demoted and replaced, but he would no longer be able to protect Grell from the consequences of her recent actions. A new Director, eager to demonstrate authority and right-mindedness, would not miss the chance to condemn a Reaper who had abandoned her responsibilities to consort with a demon. 

Following that, if he could not execute Slingby, he would certainly execute Humphries. Humphries was innocent of anything but obstruction, but an ambitious new Manager would have no difficulty calling that treason. He would then crack down on the rest of his Reapers. That would signal the end of the successful operation that Spears had so carefully built and nurtured. All who could transfer would leave. The rest would indulge in resentful subversion. Some would miss Sutcliff. Some would sympathize with Slingby. All would be outraged at the termination of Humphries. The exemplary performance of the London Branch would dissolve in an undeclared war between the office and its new Manager. Unacceptable.

Very well. Time to bury what he could and gloss over the rest. First, he would decree a disciplinary reassignment for Grell to the most unpleasant post under his command. Or, even better - to the area around the Phantomhive manor. No, to any area around the Phantomhive demon, no matter where he was, with a note to his little Lord that Sutcliff would be removed only when the boy rescinded his order for Slingby's extermination. After all, Slingby was out of the picture and his killings had stopped. Spears could well imagine the result if he gave Grell orders to abandon all restraint.

A stop in pay and a six-month suspension under house arrest would do for Humphries—wait, he'd need a minder. He'd send a request to Medical for caregivers to make sure he was fed and comfortable. He'd assign Knox to make unscheduled calls to ensure that they weren't neglecting him. Actually, better to move Knox in with Humphries until he died; Spears could offer him a bonus, taken from Humphries' stopped salary. Any failure of the caregivers would be reported at once. Complete rest and nursing might do more for Humphries than anyone expected. It might allow him a few more days of reasonably comfortable life. 

He would decree Slingby banished and send his pursuers back to their normal duties. They were far too shorthanded to waste resources on a deserter who had descended into madness. 

Yes, this all could be controlled; his people would know he was doing his best to protect them. They would cooperate in all the little undocumented ways that the Higher Ups could not trace or prevent. In a few months there would be another scandal. Memories of all this would fade.

* * *

Alan had left a scribbled note in Eric's briefcase.

Eric, when you are safe please send a note to me care of your tobacconist. If I can, I will use it to set up a maildrop.  
Love, Alan

Alan, _mo sholas_ , if you're still alive, write to me care of the following....  
Yours, Eric

Dear Eric,  
I'm alive. Spears has me under house arrest because he has to be seen to be doing something. I'm too sick to be put in jail and the Infirmary doesn't do long term care. He's stopped the search for you, very quietly. You would not believe what he's done to Grell - I can't feel sorry for her because she's enjoying it so much. I turned in all your souls. It left me totally drained, with this strange empty feeling. How did you bear the weight for so long? Are you all right?  
Yours, Alan

Dear Alan,  
House arrest? How can you manage that, living alone? Wait, did Spears install a jailer in our place? If he looks crosswise at you I swear I will come back and...

Dear Eric,  
Relax. Ronnie is living here temporarily. He does the shopping. A visiting nurse checks up on me daily. You'll be happy to know she's a terrible bully who makes me eat my spinach. I can feed and maintain myself now, if I take it slow. I was rather ill after you left, holding and then surrendering more than a thousand souls was hard work, but I've been getting better...

Alan, my light,  
...over a thousand? I was sure I had less than that...

Dear Eric,  
You probably just lost count, you were under a lot of stress. I have wonderful news. Remember that Grell's punishment for abetting the demon turned out to be enjoyable? Spears assigned her to a very small travelling territory centered on the demon and his master. He commanded her to make their lives absolutely miserable. Neither demon nor master could do anything without her constant presence and interference. It drove them completely spare, as you can imagine, especially when she started showing up nightly at bathtime and insisting on reading the kid infantile bedtime stories. Oh, and then at the demon's bathtime...Finally Spears agreed to call her off if the boy cancelled the demon's order to kill you. It's a done deal. Grell's tired of the demon, the demon and his Lord never want to see her or you again and Spears is quite smug if one can believe Knox. So you are safe, dear heart...

Dearest Alan,  
Do you suppose you could get me a copy of Grell's report on that assignment? Because I miss you terribly and could use a laugh...

Dear Eric,  
Please find Grell's report enclosed. She gave me a copy when she visited me yesterday. Told me all about it. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe, but it doesn't hurt the way it used to. She said Will was hoping that enforced rest would improve my condition. I do feel much better. I don't think I'm going to die just yet. When my sentence is up, I think I may be fit for desk work. Since Will's not actively hunting you, maybe we could meet then? We'll have to be careful, I think he's having me watched...

Dear Alan,  
I am so glad you're recovering. Anywhere, anytime, my love. But we must not endanger your health or safety. Remember that Will's first and only love is his Division and he will do anything to preserve it. If he catches you...please be careful...

To: Mr. Eric Slingby  
Sir:  
You are correct in your estimation of my priorities. My only concern is my Division, which is inconveniently shorthanded due to the shenanigans of certain Reapers.

You will return, Sir, as soon as you can conclude your affairs in your current abode, and take up your duties at the London Dispatch. I require you to be back on a regular schedule well before your partner is released from house arrest. Your absence will be listed as a disciplinary suspension. Since all your stolen souls were recovered, no further action will be taken.

While Mr. Humphries will begin with light desk duty, Medical believes that he could be fit to Reap in another year. They can find no trace of his Thorns and prefer to believe that he was incorrectly diagnosed. He is now on record as having contracted a resistant strain of tuberculosis to which his healing abilities required time to adapt. Neither you nor he will contradict this convenient, face-saving, plausible theory.

You will be allowed time to oversee his physical rehabilitation while he continues to recover. Do try to keep him from overextending himself. He will be classed and scheduled as a trainee until you and Medical pronounce him fully fit. Meanwhile you, Mr. Slingby, will endeavor to become the sort of Reaper who deserves a partner like Mr. Humphries.

With continued regards,  
William T. Spears  
Director  
London Dispatch


End file.
